


i don't expect to feel regret from this

by Valhella



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Car Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valhella/pseuds/Valhella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your car broke down?" Lydia says, slipping her shirt over her head. "I think, 'I'm having sex with your neighbor's daughter in the back of this patrol car,' would've been more believable."</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't expect to feel regret from this

So, Lydia's 18, and she likes it so far- save the fact that she's at the pharmacy to pick up some ibuprofen, because _goddamn_ it does screaming as loud as she does give her a headache.

She runs into Parrish because he's on patrol and by some way of a curse or miracle (she can't decide which), she's got a flat tire and it's raining pretty hard. She _insists_ she can call Scott or Stiles for a lift, but it's a Friday night and either of them are probably busy making out with Kira and Malia, so she accepts his offer for a lift.

"Yeah, sorry for the mess," he says, as she eyes all of the Chinese takeout resting on the car's counter.

 "Don't worry about it," she says, flattening out her wrinkled skirt.

 "Alright, where to?"

 "South Maple Drive."

 They ride in complete silence and Lydia just leans against the cool surface of the drenched window. Parrish fiddles with the radio before deciding that having the same song on six different stations probably means it's just not worth it, and he turns the radio off completely. "So, what where you doing out so late?"

 "Not clubbing, if that's what you're wondering," she says flatly. "Screaming as much as I do is a number one cause for migraines, believe it or not, and we were fresh out of painkillers."

 "Is it frequent?"

 "Living in this freakshow of a town, yeah, they are."

 "No, not the headaches. The screaming," he says, and briefly takes his eyes off the road to meet her eyes. "Look, I'm still getting a hang of all this supernatural crap. There are more werewolves in this town that I can count on one hand, and I've taken the liberty of looking up banshees on the internet. And you're not some old Irish hag so I can only assume there are some differences I don't know about."

 Lydia lets out a sigh. "Trust me, deputy, I'd like to be aware of those differences even more than you."

 "Well I guess that puts us in the same boat, since I have no idea what the hell I am," Parrish says, making a turn, and Lydia feels a pang of empathy. "Is this you?"

 "Yeah, Number 12, that's me," Lydia says.

 "So I guess I'll see you around," he says, bringing the car to a full halt in front of the Martin home.

 "Unless you want to stop meeting like this, deputy."

 "In the rain with a busted tire?"

 "I was going to say under hasty, unplanned circumstances, but in the rain works too," Lydia says.

 It seems like a fortnight, for Lydia and for Parrish, when they sit there with the most _unbelievable_ sexual tension, green eyes meeting green, before Lydia closes the distance, her hands entangling through his hair, his hands caressing her neck. It's the most amazing couple of seconds for Lydia and she can assume it's the same for Parrish too, but he pulls away and gives her the most unbelievable deer-caught-in-the-headlights look before putting his face in his hands. "Oh boy."

 Lydia can only click her tongue impatiently. "What now?"

 Parrish lifts his face from his hands, sending his hair into a mess. "Look, Lydia, you're beautiful, but-"

 "Oh, _not this_ ," Lydia mutters, sinking into her seat.

 Parrish gives her the most incredulous look. " _You've been with older men_?"

 It amuses her how much she has to think about it at first. "No. Try, men who actually believe I'm too good for them and that I can do better," Lydia says, tapping on the car door as if this was any other exchange. She wasn't going to have this.

 " _Or_ , men who are seven years older than you and think that your experiences and their experiences might be too different for them to be compatible."

 "Six years," Lydia says. "Don't you remember, deputy? I turned 18 last week."

 "You're off the point," Parrish scoffs.

 "And you're a really good kisser," Lydia retaliates.

 Parrish's stifled sigh just proves Lydia's point. "So what are we gonna do? You gonna go inside and I'm gonna drive back to the station and we're just gonna act like nothing happened?"

 "No," Lydia says flatly. "Because despite what you think, I am _on point_. Look, half the guys I've been with have given me that classic speech  _in a car_ and I've ended up dating all of them."

 Parrish is looking out the window and avoiding Lydia's gaze, because apparently he's a fifth grader.

 "I've been with a lizard _and_ a werewolf, I don't think a six year age difference with whatever the hell you are is such a big deal," Lydia says with her arms folded.

 Parrish finally turns to her and Lydia swears she sees a smirk forming. "This is really what you want?"

 She shrugs, like she's not about to make out with an older _cop_. "Ever since we discovered dead bodies in a freezer owned by a family of Wendingos."

 "Don't romanticize that," Parrish says.

 It's only after that that their mouths clash again, that Parrish has his hands on her face and she's got hers in his hair. Then after an awkward scramble, they're both in the backseat, Lydia's got her shirt off and Parrish is on top of her, sending shivers down her spine as he kisses every area of her neck he can find and she thinks goddamn, nobody can top this, not even Jackson and not even Aiden.

 She can feel hickeys starting to form as he lifts himself off her body for a second, only to take his shirt off in a hunched position because they're in the back of a police car. Then he stops. "Have you got-?"

 "Yeah," she says, scrambling for her purse and hastily pulling out a condom. At Parrish's raised brow, she goes, "Do you really think you're the first guy I've had sex with in the back of a car?"

 He takes what he can get and slips the condom right over with very unsteady hands. "Oh for god's sake," Lydia says, taking his hands in hers and practically doing all the work. "You're right, our experiences differ _completely_."

 Lydia's decided she's been extremely mouthy all night, so she's not surprised when Parrish retaliates by lifting her skirt and sliding her panties to her ankles before letting his mouth do the rest of the work, and by god is it an amazing few minutes of work. In fact, it's so damn amazing that she's forced to slam one of her hands on the window, which is _unbelievable_ because she remembers watching _Titanic_ and wondering what in the hell Jack was doing to Rose to make her do the same goddamn thing. _Well_ , she says to herself. _Now I know._

She thinks she can't take anymore of this boy's tongue before he finally pulls back and she's given only a second to breathe, because right after that's when he finally enters her. It's a good few thrusts (and Lydia swears she sees his eyes glow orange - but that's a question for another day), then an _amazing_ next few thrusts, because he's going to town on her neck again. Never in a million years did Lydia think sweaty, cold, car sex would be the best sex she'd ever had (and assuming she and Parrish would be doing this again in the near future, she didn't limit her expectations). He climaxes first and collapses into her shoulder and she follows short after, closing her eyes and enjoying the few minutes of them just panting in the silence. She forgets they've just had sex in the back of a police car _right_ in front of her house in the middle of South Maple Drive, the cleanest neighborhood in Beacon Hills, she was sure of it.

It's a great few minutes followed by a hasty scramble for both of them, because Lydia's extremely chaste neighbor Mrs. Windham is approaching the car and fast, probably wanting to know why it had been rocking back and forth in the middle of the night. Lydia can only bundle up the rest of the clothes she had off and lie on her stomach on the car floor, praying that Parrish has his shirt on and her lipstick wiped off his face.

 He does, but his hair is absurdly messy and he's still sweating like he's come straight out of a shower.

 "Excuse me officer," Mrs. Windham says, tapping on the window.

 Parrish rolls the window down. "Yes, ma'am?" he pants.

 "I can't help but wonder why a patrol car is present outside of the Martin house at this time of the night? Should I be worried? That Martin girl has been screaming the entire neighborhood awake for the past few months. I shouldn't at all be surprised." Lydia feels her eyes roll to the very back of her head.

 "No, not at all, ma'am," Parrish says, and Lydia, who's still on her stomach, _prays_ the excuse he pulls out his ass isn't complete bullshit. "I was only passing through because there's a quicker route to the station down here. Although it's not as quick as I hoped because one of my tires is busted."

 "I see," Mrs. Windham says. "Could I do anything to help? Call my husband?"

 "No thank you, ma'am, I've got an extra tire in the back so I'm all set. I apologize, I didn't mean to cause a scare." Mrs. Windham gives him a smile and leaves, and Lydia's 90% it's the eyes and the smile that convince her he's telling the truth.

 Lydia crawls from the floor and meets Parrish in the front. "Your car broke down?" she says, slipping her shirt over her head. "I think, 'I'm having sex with your neighbor's daughter in the back of this patrol car' would've been more believable."

 "I knew this was a terrible idea," Parrish says, handing her her purse.

 "I knew heading out to buy painkillers in the middle of the night would give me an even bigger headache but it ended with the best sex I've ever had," Lydia says simply.

Parrish gives her a half-smile. "So far."

It's corny but it's irresistible, and the two of them share one more kiss before Lydia promises to drop by the station the next day. She watches Parrish drive off into the night and is left standing there in the moonlight, wondering for the next few minutes whether or not any future sex would top the cold, sweaty, _Titanic_ -themed sex she'd just had with a deputy of a to-be-determined supernatural subspecies.

 Because, well. She wouldn't mind.


End file.
